


Knucklebones

by Eff_Dragonkiller



Series: Roll the Bones [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Racism, Divination, Fluff, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eff_Dragonkiller/pseuds/Eff_Dragonkiller
Summary: Remember those knucklebones with the questionable history? Yeah, so does Alec.It shouldn’t have even been a possibility; that the bones were from someone, instead of something. But now that it was, Alec needed to find out for sure.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Roll the Bones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867732
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134





	Knucklebones

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read "The Angel Shipped It", you should. It might not make sense if you don't.
> 
> edit: Now that I've edited this thing for the 100th time, *huff*, enjoy.

"What can I do for you, Alexander?" Magnus smiled with a bit of delight and Alec couldn't help but smile back. The warlock stretched up to give his guest a kiss and Alec bent to receive it.

"It's business, sorry. I mean, personal business, but still not fun." Alec said with a shrug as he hung his jacket up on the rack. "But if you take baked goods as payment, I went down to that bakery next to the park and got sticky buns.”

“For you?” Magnus smirked, “I’ll make an exception.”

Alec handed over the box and watched as his boyfriend lifted to his nose and inhaled.  _ Nananna’s _ had earned its reputation as a piece of heaven. “I’ve got an hour. Izzy's covering me, but I'll need to get back after our meeting."

Magnus's smile dims a little but he still offers the box back to Alec, "Refreshments?"

"You're-" Alec hesitated, "This isn't going to be pleasant, Magnus."

He straightens as he leads the way to the room set aside just for business. Taking the armchair away from the door, Magnus was all the straight lines and stiff posture of an intent High Warlock. "Like being covered in the ichor of a demon, unpleasant?"

"Like bargaining with the Circle, unpleasant." Alec mourned the loss of his boyfriend's smile.

"Alright," Magnus finally said, "What do you need?"

Alec caught Magnus's hand in his as he drew out the silk sack with the knucklebones. "I- I think these belonged to a warlock."

"Knucklebones?" Magnus frowned, "Certainly they have powerful remnants of magic on them but I don't understand, Alec. Warlock's aren't going to fret over a missing set of knucklebones."

Alec grimaced and clasped his boyfriend's hands in his. "I think the  _ bones _ belonged to a warlock. Not that they used them. Izzy tried to figure it out. But there wasn't a lot to go off of after this long."

Magnus was quiet and Alec let the silence build. What could he say? What could possibly sooth the wound of knowing that the bones he held could have been a friend's?

"This feels like Angelic power." Is what Magnus finally said, "I didn't know Shadowhunters believed in divination."

"It's not popular anymore," Alec admitted, thinking of how the Kassaniki hurt more than any rune he'd ever felt. "But my Dad gave me these years ago. It was only after I found out about the Circle that it occurred to me what they could be."

"The Lightwoods were known for taking trophies."

"Yeah."

Magnus picked out a bone from the top of the slack. The one where Izzy had drilled for a sample. The results had been inconclusive, nothing about the test results had been enough to suggest either demonic or angelic ancestry. Alec swallowed back a small wave of nausea over how often he’d loved to throw the bones. How the year Jace had joined the Lightwoods, Alec had carried the small bag in his pocket everywhere he went. 

They had promised him a friendship unending. He hadn’t wanted to miss the chance and to the ten-year-old, it felt like any second the bones weren’t with him was an opportunity for the Angel to change its mind. 

Magic swirled around the warlock’s fingers. Brilliant in its colors and sparkles. Entrancing like always. The bone floated in that sea of power until Alec was certain that the seemingly innocuous item had no more secrets to hide.

Finally, Magnus relaxed. He gave Alec a small smile, really more of a quirk at the corner of his lips, as he handed the bones back. “I wanted to be certain, but these aren’t the bones of a warlock." 

Magnus let the black silk sack pour from his hands back into Alec's. "They're from a nephilim. A warlock's bones would never hold angelic magic as well as these do. If they're as old as you say, they should practically turn to dust."

The clenching knot in his stomach that wouldn’t go away suddenly dissipated and Alec was left with the certainty that he’d been much more upset about the possibility than he’d admitted, even to himself.

“Good. That’s good.” Alec exhaled and slumped, a sudden band around his chest released. “Thank you, Magnus.”

The warlock leaned back in his own chair, the gaze he ran over his boyfriend was curious. Here was a mystery where he’d never expected one. And like a cat, he simply couldn’t resist putting his nose in it. Alec could practically see the older man coming to some sort of decision as he snapped the box from  _ Nananna’s _ onto the table. 

“You were really upset,” Magnus frowned, “It’s not like it would have been your fault, Alexander. Shadowhunters and downworlders have been at each other’s throats for millennia. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of your inherited property has a...bad story attached.”

Alec shook his head. Magnus didn’t understand. This wasn’t just something his ancestors had done. This was  _ him _ . How could he make Magnus understand? 

“I- Uh, I need- the stones are-,” Alec took a deep breath and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He scooted forward until he could grasp his boyfriend’s hands in his. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Of course,” Magnus moved closer, his smile was warm though the look in his eyes was no less curious. “I want to know everything!”

“Of course you do.” Alec snorted, but the quick-fire flash of humor loosened his tongue and reminded the Shadowhunter that Magnus wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. “Right, okay, there’s a rune called the Kassaniki, and using it can help you glimpse the Angel’s plans. But mortals, even nephilim, aren’t strong enough to just  _ understand _ , we need a way to read the plan.”

“Hence the bones.”

“Right,” he nodded, “It’s not just knucklebones, anyone who can use the Kassaniki can use just about any method to divine the Angel’s plan. But, my favorite method is the bones. They always responded so well to me and I’ve used them to guide what feels like every choice I’ve ever made.” 

Alec rubbed his thumb over the delicate fingers in his boyfriend’s hands. Just admiring the very structure of the other man and trying not to think about how very close it was that the knucklebones in his bag could have been from  _ Magnus _ . 

“The idea that they could have been so responsive because they were from a warlock?” Alec’s voice broke on the word, his vision blurring as tears filled his eyes. “It made me sick, Magnus. I- just the thought was disgusting.”

“Shh,” Magnus stood from his armchair and crawled into Alec’s lap. They’d never been so close before. “Alexander, breath for me. It’s alright darling. It’s okay.” The warlock cradled him against the dark satin and silk that made up the other man’s vest. Pulling him right up against Magnus’s heart. “They aren’t from a warlock, love. And even if they were, you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. It’s alright.”

Alec sniffled, pulling away from the warlock’s chest, “Got your vest wet.”

“ _ Psh _ ,” Magnus waved a hand and he was in a completely different top. “Magic, darling, nothing to worry about.”

Magnus was wrong. There was a lot to worry about. 

“Thanks, Magnus.” Alec knew his smile was a weak and pitiful thing, but he appreciated it when his boyfriend kept his opinion to himself. “And thanks for testing the knucklebones.”

“Of course,” the warlock said promptly. “What are you going to do with the bones now?”

“Good question,” Alec said thoughtfully as he weighed the black silk bag in his hand. 

This was honestly the difference between someone who grows up with the Kassaniki and someone who first applies it later in life. Besides the known likelihood of going insane, that is.

Alec could feel the power in the black silk bag. Just letting it rest in his hand the nephilim could tell if the bones were good, if the cards, or dice, or tea, was a good choice for his question. He could read the power that wove through the very fabric of the world--it would tell him, whisper it in his ears, tell it to his bones--whatever it was, Alec just knew if the reading was going to be useful.

The bones didn’t feel bad. Besides the visceral reaction that Alec had at the thought of where these bones could have come from there was nothing wrong with them. They still resonated with the power Alec had poured into them. Years of belief and use, over a hundred years of saturation in the Angel’s Grace; the bones were  _ good  _ at reading the Angel’s plan. 

They hadn’t changed. Alec had.

He took a deep breath, “Do you have a mat?”

“I have chalk?” Magnus offered, “Comfortable cushions and a very forgiving apothecary floor?”

Alec nodded, “that’ll work.”

The warlock’s workspace was cluttered with what seemed like every imaginable magical specimen. Cabinets lined the walls with vials, jars, and tools. A large work table sat center stage with an uncomfortable looking stool, and cauldrons lined the bottom shelves. 

This wasn’t the room they had come together in for the ritual to restore Clary’s memories. This was his boyfriend’s most private workspace. The place that was probably most like him, and Magnus hadn’t hesitated at all to let him into it.

It didn’t hurt that it looked like something from a fairytale and Alec was inordinately amused.

“Here we go,” Magnus said, handing him the chalk to make the circle as he summoned up a pair of oversized cushions. They sparkled.

“Alright,” Alec chuckled as he settled onto what was clearly a cloud masquerading as a cushion. He resisted the urge to groan. 

“When you’re ready,” Magnus said with a blinding smile and a wiggle on his cushion. 

Alec considered the chalk circle. Most sets of knucklebones only included four bones, but Alec’s set was of twelve bones. Presumably for the twelve signs of the zodiac. Though, he wasn’t certain. Astrology had always been his worst of the divination methods. He-

He was stalling. Sighing, Alec peeled off the shooting glove and drew the Kassaniki on his hand, not bothering to look closely at the mesmerizing swirl of the divination rune. Nor did he bother to acknowledge the surge of pain that flooded his nerves for the barest moment. The skin was still raw from the last time he’d drawn it. Repeated use within a short time frame was not recommended. 

The black silk bag had a weight to it. The shuffle of the bones within offering a soft jingle as they shifted. He considered the question he wanted to ask. 

But there was only one thing on his mind right now. Magnus had said it was alright. Meant the sentiment when he'd talked like the history between nephilim and downworlders couldn't be avoided. But it didn't have to stay, there could be a day when loving a warlock was worth a congratulation instead of a lecture on the hedonistic horror of the children of demons. 

If there was one thing Alec had learned recently it was that children should never be charged with the crimes of their parents. No matter who those parents were. 

So Alec figured there was really only one question he could ask. Could he change it?

He held the question in his mind like holding blown-glass in one hand; carefully, very carefully. 

Then he rolled the bones. 

They splayed out in that arc Alec always preferred to use, falling from left to right in a clatter against the wood floor as his hand crossed in front of his body. Reading in the circle as opposed to the mat he'd grown accustomed to was different, maybe even difficult. 

Or maybe it was just his question.

Alec took a deep breath and peered closer at the spread. Faintly, he could see the shadow darken just a little as Magnus leaned forward to see. 

At the beginning the bones were soft. The yellow and grey of the peaceful dead seemed muted and pleasant. One or two of the bones were curved inward for an unsettled sort of peace. A little further away there were a pair, leaning on their edges and braced against each other. Neither shifted as he moved closer. Neither wobbled when they moved back.

"Well, that's auspicious," the other man said, a smile in his voice. Alec refused to look up as a blush settled on his cheeks. The warlock wasn't wrong. It was auspicious and Alec wasn't ashamed to admit that he was pleased. It hadn't been but a couple of weeks since their date in the park. To know that they were that stable so soon was truly a blessing. 

Here, just before the halfway mark of Alec's cast they could begin to see trouble. A bone lay in complete shadow, and to the eye of both readers, it looked blackened with ash. 

Alec resisted the urge to touch the bone, to see if there was something on it. Was it powerless? If this was the bone Izzy tested, had she done damage that had laid unseen until Alec had cast? 

"Maybe it's damaged?"

"It can't be," Alec shook away the wishful thinking, "We both know better than that."

Then it got worse. At the halfway mark was a collection of the roughest signs. The turn and lay of the bones was unpleasant. Where the edges were worn rough instead of smooth and the shadows in the crevices made some of the bones look sharp enough to cut. And there at the pinnacle, one bone seemed to flash red as the shadow played with it. 

Alec could almost smell the blood.

"Alexander?" Magnus whispered, the horror tinging his voice conveying exactly what the warlock had seen.

"Ask me- Ask me later," Alec whispered as he swallowed dryly. 

He wouldn't be able to finish if they stopped now. He wasn't honestly sure if he wanted to know what other plans the Angel had, when just the hint here was so nerve-wracking. But Alec never shied away from consequences and he certainly didn't let fear keep him from moving forward. He looked again. He bent back to the bones. 

After a set of bones that seemed to foretell one fight after another after another--where Alec could practically hear the  _ thwack-thwack _ of his bowstring and the clash of adamas swords ringing in his ears--he finally made it to the end of the cast. 

Here again, two bones sat leaning together perfectly arranged to weather whatever storm came their way. This time, as the light played over them they seemed to shimmer gold and blue. 

Alec shot wide eyes up at the warlock across from him. "It's not- it can't be- it's probably not what it looks like?"

"And if I want it to be?" Magnus whispered, leaning just a little closer. "If I want it to be exactly what it looks like? What then?"

If Jace had come bursting through the door, or Izzy had screamed that they were under attack, Alec likely still wouldn't have been able to look away from the beautiful eyes he stared into. He cupped the curve of Magnus's face in his palm as Magnus curled his fingers tight into the fabric of his shirt. 

"Relationships, they take effort." Alec breathed against Magnus's lips.

"I'm all for effort." Magnus closed the minuscule distance between them and Alec figured he'd died and gone to heaven. 

There was nothing as soft as Magnus's lips, and the faintest hint of flavor from his lip gloss was like the promise of better things. Alec wanted more. He wanted the feel of Magnus's tongue tangling with his and to know if the other man's skin was as sweet and smooth as his lips. Alec wanted to trace the scars on his body and to know all their stories. To twist Magnus's legs between his, to know if he would cry with pleasure or bite his lip. Would his cock be heavy against Alec's tongue when the shadowhunter took it in his mouth? Would he like it?

Alec wanted to know all this and more, just the thought had him panting and as Magnus traced the seal of Alec's lips with his tongue, Alec reached up with his free hand to tangle in the spikes of the warlock's short hair.

Except, without a hand to brace himself with Alec landed shoulder first on the hardwood floor of his boyfriend's apothecary with a groan. Magnus following quickly after with a flail and a squeak. 

Alec burned with embarrassment, "Are you alright?"

"No harm done," Magnus's voice was muffled from where he spoke into Alec's stomach. He shifted, managing to brace a hand under him and lift. "You?"

"Oh, nothing too bad," Alec said, arm over his eyes. "Just, you know, dying of mortification."

"Oh,  _ sayang _ , this is tame!" Magnus chortled, "I could tell you any number of stories I've heard about sexcapades gone wrong. This was nothing." He leaned closer and Alec could feel the breath against his face, "we're going to get married, you and I. And I'm going to spend the rest of your life making love to you. This is just the start."

"Magnus," Alec startled, sitting up to stare at the warlock, beautiful gold eyes staring back at him as the warlock picked one bone or another from where they'd pressed against his skin. "Marriage? But the Clave-"

"Ssh," Magnus said softly, the cool metal of his rings pressing against Alec's heated skin. "Not soon, but we'll get there. I can place my trust in the bones. And when we get there, the Clave won't have anything to say about it." 

Oh, the Clave was going to have a lot to say about it. A whole fucking lot that was going to begin and end with the fact that Magnus was a downworlder and Alec was never going to hide his relationship with him. 

Which brought him back to the knucklebones. The fact that Alec had to even consider that they could be trophies from a downworlder’s murder wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay that the Clave didn’t care, and it wasn’t alright that Magnus could just shrug the possibility off. 

Nothing about this situation was alright. Except, that the knucklebones weren’t from a warlock.  _ That _ was fine. But everything else? So far from okay, they might as well be from another dimension.

It shouldn’t have even been a possibility, that the bones were from some _ one _ instead of some _ thing _ . Alec shouldn’t have to be concerned that the next time his father or mother offered him an heirloom that it might be a  _ trophy _ . It should never have been okay. 

The fact that if he brought it up the general consensus of his shadowhunters would be  _ well, they’ve been dead a while _ , was not enough. More than ever, Alec understood that simply being aware of the problem wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough that Alec didn’t believe that, or that it wasn’t his actions that caused the rift. It didn’t matter than nephilim and downworlders had never been more than occasionally friendly. 

Alec considered the casting as he picked up the pieces. Fire, conflict, and blood, but at the end, there was going to be Magnus. And perhaps that was all that mattered, that no matter what happened Alec would have tried and Magnus would be there beside him. 

So it came down to a roll of the bones. 

A gamble, Alec thought with a smirk.

The status quo in the shadow world was no longer good enough. Had never actually been good enough. It was disgusting. The Clave had years they could’ve been working towards a new equilibrium. They hadn’t.

So, Alec would. 


End file.
